A HOUSE INVASION AND MONKEY BUSINESS   


Wordle 326

Monkeys chop-chop relish undoing cupboard strap;

Their sting done, then  moon-bottomed as away they fly —

Blown farewell kisses then emerge derisively, mayhap,

Ere shimmy from the crime, no justice sword nearby!

 

We came home yesterday to find the local monkey troop had raided the house. Again. They were in no particular hurry to leave when I strolled in. What annoyed me most is that they had polished off all that was left of my gift package of chocolates received at a luncheon on Thursday!

At least these are far better creatures than the invaders we passed the aftermath of on 7th, just a few houses up the road from J’s school. These had two cars, one with the active housebreakers, which drove in once they had dealt with the gate. The other waited outside, and the occupant stepped out calmly and killed the security company respondent as soon as he left his vehicle, before they all departed at speed. It makes horrifying video viewing.

© November 2017 Colonialist
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Posted in Africa | 10 Comments

Goog(mis)led!


On Sunday last Younger Daughter decided it was time to revisit an animal farm that serves the best scones in the universe. She had forgotten exactly where it was, so plugged in a Google ap. to provide instructions.

At the first roundabout, it told us to take the first exit. We knew it should be the second, so ignored the instruction amid frantic bleats from canned voice. Shortly thereafter we found ourselves in gridlocked traffic — a child’s body had been found and a murder investigation and search for another missing child (alas, also dead as it turned out) were underway. Sad and horrifying, indeed.

Deeply impressed by the knowledge apparently displayed by Google, we managed a U-turn by going on safari across a traffic island, and now meekly followed the instructions of the canned voice, being taken safely past the obstructed system of roads. However, it then made no attempt to direct us towards any known routes, but it had built up our faith by being right before so we continued to go according to the instructions from the box.

 

The route alternated between countryside and distinctly iffy shack-dweller territory, and we waited to intersect with known routes in increasing trepidation. The double highway became a wide single road, then a narrower one. Then the paved surface gave way to dirt, but we are used to roads like that. This one got increasingly narrower and more potholed, though, and started going through topography with wild wiggles and wrinkles.  Google remained adamant we were going the right way.

Adding to our woes, as soon as the road became too narrow for any hope of overtaking, we came up behind a taxi, the driver of which did not believe in exceeding about 20 Kph.  He, his passengers, local cows, goats, and humans were looking at us very strangely and without any displays of friendliness.  To our relief, the snail trail taxi eventually pulled off to a house by the wayside. Encouragingly,  Google said we were drawing closer to our objective, unlikely though it seemed …

We got to an area where the ‘road’ widened into a small open space on the far side of which a track barely deserving the name meandered on forlornly, and our guide voice announced with great smugness, ‘You have reached your destination.’

WH-A-A-A-A-T?

More-tified, and having had more than enough, we back-tracked hastily until we reached a local who showed more signs of surprise than hostility, and from him received more directions more directed at the direction we had had in mind.

Ultimately, we arrived at the farm just in time to claim the last remaining two of the famous scones. Between five of us.

Really Awful Owler Talepiece

 

 
© November 2017 Colonialist
Posted in Africa, Cartoon inventions, Excursions, Humour, Personal Journal | Tagged , , , | 8 Comments

Some Things Temporary: of Consuming Interest, and of Temper Rare, She!


The current Photo Challenge theme of Temporary  suggested these to me today:

This was very temporary – a few minutes later I had reduced that plateful to rinds.

A scant few seconds after my M is a devil from the depths of Hades …

 

 

She converts into adorableness puss-onified!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

©   November 2017 Colonialist

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in Africa, Cats, Photography, Weekly Photo Challenge | Tagged , , , | 11 Comments

A Zoo-ma Too-doo to Roo, Doo too Being Placed in the Moo-Poo by a Book


Wordle 325

Clear taunting body-language hidden fury test;
War mission on, to give a lesson as a thief;
From all the dirt exposed he’s sure to slide the best —
That he, again, won’t pay fills one with disbelief!

President Zuma of South Africa is the target of a book just published which reveals that he has indulged in shenanigans beyond what even his most jaded critics have suspected. He takes refuge at his favourite African river — De Nile — and his display of injured innocence is again likely to sway his doltish followers or be echoed by his equally culpable cronies.

Owlingly Really Awful Talepiece

© November 2017 Colonialist
Posted in Africa | 5 Comments

Remembrance Day and Delville Wood


I have been very involved with the annual prize-giving for the Garden of the Year Competition run by Durban and Coast Horticultural Society, and today delivered my speech in my capacity as President and handed out the cups.

As in previous years, though, I would like to post my mother’s Delville Wood March again, so often played in the past by military bands in Durban at Remembrance Day parades.

I normally take the pictures, but by the time I got to it this time most had gone home already. Hopefully I can get some of the press ones from the secretary and others in due course

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

© November 2017 Colonialist
Posted in Africa, Colonialist, Gardens, History, Music | Tagged , , | 21 Comments

RIP Blog (not quite), a Cicada (completely), but bringing Mr Bean alive.


Many bloggers suffer under the misapprehension that it will be noticed if there is an abrupt hiatus in their posting, and that people will rush around like headless chickens wondering where they have got to. The reality is that nobody is likely to notice for some time — if at all. Nevertheless, there is this compulsion to offer apologies and excuses …

Mine are simply that I have been unprecedentedly busy, with the Garden of the Year judging, and upcoming prizegiving in a week’s time for which I have yet to write my speech, various edits, researching my new textbook and composing music for it, plus trying to patch up things damaged in our breezy and drizzly weather (that is using the famous British understatement bit). I have accumulated oodles of post-worthy tales and pictures, but with no time to feature them they have become old news and will remain in obscurity.

Yet another vista from Royal Natal Yacht Club, which we are likely to visit even more frequently from now on. Our favorite place to eat out, with the best pizzas in the world, got wiped out so badly in the bad weather that the owners are unlikely to want to try to revive it.

This picture is of six-year-old J featuring in our local newspaper yet again. I don’t know how she does it. The paper serves a large area with many dozens of schools and such, and numerous things going on, and only has limited space for the social/school/sporting stuff, but she somehow sneaks in again and again, if not on her own then (as with this party) as part of a group. This must make her third or fourth time this year alone.

 

I was amazed at this picture by J of Rowan Atkinson (Mr Bean on television in a real-life and in an animated version). Simply by watching it on television, and unaided in any way, she came up with this caricature showing mole on cheek and all. That of ‘Teddy’ is also really good. I thought, when I saw it, that her elder sister had drawn it, and even then I was impressed.

I found her sitting bent right over in our courtyard and sobbing her little heart out a couple of days ago. When I went to give her a hug and ask what was wrong, she showed me a cicada she had rescued from one of the cats and now had cuddled in her hands. It had died, and she was heartbroken. What a little darling!

 

© November 2017 Colonialist

Posted in Grandchildren, Personal Journal | Tagged , , , | 17 Comments

Rounded off Squarely


It has been over a week since I got a round to post, and the previous one squeezed in the Weekly Photo Challenge so I may as well painfully contrive to drag that into this one as well; therefore the pictures here squarely reflect two aspects of my life at the moment, Rounded  off as far as possible.

Writing my Keyboard Elements textbook has been taking up all spare waking moments when not dashing round on the daily rounds with kids etc. Here is a section of innards – two facing pages showing my take on keyboard/note relationships as well as on the Cycle of Fourths/Fifths, with a couple of cover pictures adding decoration.


And here is another of our main routes which has to be rounded, due to a bit of a hole.

Note the car, for scale.

The road is, indeed, a teensy bit unsafe.

Part of a house a few roads away from us headed for the sea at speed. Music can be dangerous stuff. We gather that the owner was playing the piano in the front part that departed, but left to watch TV in the back part just before the piano played serious discords.

The wind got a bit breezy again yesterday, and some more trees fell over across our main route previously pictured.  Ho, hum.

Today it rained a bit again, and my pool runneth over.  Ho, hum …

Owlingly Awful Talepiece


© October 2017 Colonialist
Posted in Africa, Books, Challenge, Cover Design, Music, Personal Journal, photo challenge, Photography, Weekly Photo Challenge, Writing | Tagged , , , , | 22 Comments